


faded off you

by MiraclesInApril



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, ass eating, it's all sehun's fault tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesInApril/pseuds/MiraclesInApril
Summary: Three times Jongin gave Chanyeol a heart attack and one time he gave him a heart attack but saved him.or in which Chanyeol eats Jongin out. That's it.





	faded off you

**Author's Note:**

> 101% self indulgent (with typos, probably)

The first heart attack comes to Chanyeol on a day off where he’s lazing in the lounge. Jongin enters, sullen and pouting dejectedly.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol sits up, concerned. Jongin settles down cross-legged, facing him but head drooping in distress.

“Sehun said I don’t have an ass. Do I have an ass?” he looks up then, eyes wide and imploring.

“Eh,” Chanyeol feels his throat go dry, heart pick up, “I’m sure you do, Jongin. Don’t mind him, he’s only teasing.”

Jongin considers his reply then nods, sadness clearing from his eyes. He smiles brightly, fringe bouncing against his forehead with his vigorous nods. “Thanks hyung.”

 

The next heart attack comes when they’re in the kitchen, the dorm empty with everyone else either seeking leisure time outside or busy with individual schedules. Chanyeol is stirring sugar into his tea when Jongin shuffles in, shoulders sagging.

“Hyung, but is my ass nice? Is it just an ass or is it a _nice_ ass?” Jongin sounds perplexed and sad.

Chanyeol jerks and hot tea sloshes over the rim, burning his hand. He winces and shakes the piping liquid off, his brain slightly fried. He hadn’t expected Jongin to bring up this topic again.

“You have a nice ass, Jongin.” Chanyeol swallows, breathing deeply. He’s certainly not thinking about all the times he’s ogled his band mate's rear in tight outfits on stage, doing moves that make Chanyeol sweat more than he should or even when he looks sinful in casual jeans nor is he—

No, Chanyeol is not thinking about Jongin’s _nice_ ass or all the times it looks _nicer_. He is not. He’s just stating a fact, that’s all.

“You really think so?” Jongin says, hopeful as he steps towards Chanyeol.

“Yeah, definitely.” Chanyeol nods quickly and picks up his tea before Jongin can come closer. He doesn’t meet Jongin’s eyes as he mutters _I need to, uh, replace the toilet paper_ , and bypasses him like he’s got a wraith on his tail.

 

The third heart attack comes when he’s lying upside down on Jongin’s bed, eyes closed and tired from the game of mini golf he’d been going at for hours. Jongin’s in the closet, picking out clothes to pack for the weekend trip he’s going on with his friends.

“Hyung, come here.” Jongin is standing before the full length mirror that’s propped against the wall. Chanyeol groans internally, fists clenching. Jongin is in the tightest pair of jeans he could possibly find, washed out and snug and definitely making his nice ass nicer. Chanyeol wonders who he pissed off recently for karma to be kicking _his_ ass this bad.

Chanyeol gets up, feeling dizzy as his blood runs south and not just because he’d been upended.

“Come closer.” Jongin is frowning at the mirror, gripping the waistband of his jeans and tugging up as hard as he can.

“What is it?” Chanyeol is right behind him, chest to back and he knows this is a terrible idea, he should just go before Jongin gets a feel of something unwarranted.  

Jongin turns around, hand on Chanyeol’s chest as he looks over his shoulder at himself in the mirror. Chanyeol hopes he can’t feel his rioting heart.

“Hyung, does my ass have a shape? Sehun said it’s just a shapeless blob of fat. Do you think that?”

There’s a moment of stunned silence even though Chanyeol was expecting Jongin to enquire about his ass again.

“No, it has a shape.” Chanyeol prays for whoever he hurt to forgive him. Jongin is still frowning at the mirror, unconvinced and Chanyeol wants to make a run for it, pretend he has to be sick or something. Anything that’ll prevent Jongin from feeling Chanyeol on his belly. 

“Can you trace the shape?” Jongin muses, considering his rear with a tilted head, “If you can’t trace a definite shape then it really is just a blob.”

“What?”

“Please hyung? I need to know if Sehun is right.” Jongin looks up at him and Chanyeol almost closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see that pout or brimming puppy eyes that always get him.

“Like- like this?” he puts a finger on one globe and starts circling slowly. Breathing has become difficult and he’s sure now that Jongin definitely feels him but he doesn’t push him away or look at him with disgust.

Jongin reaches back and flattens Chanyeol’s palm on his ass. Then he guides Chanyeol over himself in gentle pressing circles. “Like this.” he sighs, turning his head and resting against Chanyeol’s chest.

Chanyeol takes a deep breath, counting to ten in his head. He thinks of ice and trees and random objects, anything that’ll cool him down immediately but Jongin hums and presses Chanyeol’s heel to himself harder.

He can’t do this. He needs to get away _, right now._

“Yes,” Chanyeol says, almost yelling as he rips Jongin from himself, “it definitely has a shape. Sehun is wrong.” Jongin looks shocked at his outburst, mouth agape and Chanyeol wonders if he fucked up, if Jongin hadn’t meant anything by the action. He doesn’t stick around for a clarification, door slamming as he hightails it out again.

 

It’s practically an ambush the next time Jongin gives Chanyeol a heart attack. Chanyeol’s about to get in bed, tired after a long day of activities with their comeback just days ahead. The door whispers open and he doesn’t even see Jongin come in, jumping out of his skin when he turns around and sees the younger man standing in his room like a shadow with nothing but a towel around his waist.

Chanyeol doesn’t even have time to process Jongin’s largely nude state, he’s more alarmed by how upset Jongin looks.

“Jonginnie, what’s wrong?” He’s before Jongin at once, touching his shoulders and trying to get him to look up.

“I- I have a favour to ask.”

“You can tell me.” he thought Jongin was comfortable asking for anything by now, he doesn’t understand why he’s not at ease talking to Chanyeol this time.

“Hyung, it’s just…” his shoulders rise and fall under Chanyeol’s palms, head bent.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll do whatever you need.” Chanyeol caresses his shoulder, trying to calm him.

“Can you...can you take a picture of my ass for me? I need to see for myself.” Jongin spits out rapidly and the words don’t sink in for a few seconds.

Chanyeol’s sure his heart has stopped. He’s sputtering like a breathless fish, his throat scrubbed with sandpaper. His grip on Jongin loosens, momentarily losing control over his own body.

Jongin is staring back at him, wide eyed, like he can’t believe what he requested either. His eyes get wider as Chanyeol nods, like it’s the opposite of the answer he was expecting. But a grin takes over and he’s beaming at Chanyeol, thanking him with sincerity that makes Chanyeol’s regret recede just as fast as it had come.

He goes to Chanyeol’s bed unprompted and Chanyeol thinks he’s having a second stroke as the towel drops to the floor, Jongin on all fours on his bed. His skin glistens in the amber lighting, his hair matted to his nape and Chanyeol realizes Jongin is fresh out of the shower.

“We’ll get a better result if I’m in a good position.” Jongin says over his shoulder when Chanyeol is silent and stationary for a short eternity. Chanyeol can swear there’s rose in Jongin’s cheeks.

Chanyeol can’t find words, his brain not any more useful that a stack of bricks as he takes in Jongin’s naked form on his bed. Glowing taut honey skin, firm looking hamstrings, full ass parted with his knees apart, dark puckered hole visible from where Chanyeol’s standing.

He swallows though it’s not much use and looks for his phone. Jongin hadn’t entered with anything besides himself. He steps closer and angles the phone, focusing on the display offered to him through the screen. He’s sure Jongin can hear how loud he’s breathing, perhaps his thundering heart too.

He’s about to tell Jongin he’s done when the latter shifts, hips raised and legs poised even further apart.

“Different positions, in case one isn’t good enough.” Jongin looks back at him again, voice a little hoarse and now Chanyeol is sure he’s blushing. He looks away quickly, burying his face in Chanyeol’s covers and Chanyeol groans, the sight before him is driving him crazy.

He takes swift shots of the new position, wondering how fast he can get Jongin out of his room because it’s a warm summer night and he’s wearing pj shorts that does nada to hide his bulge that formed quick and strains up to his stomach.

He’s about to tell Jongin he’s done but something keeps him from speaking. Maybe...he’s just— he’s never going to see Jongin like this again so it’s okay if he looks just a little longer, right? He can pretend for a moment that Jongin is here for him, naked and in this pretty position just for his taking, free to touch and do as he likes. He closes his eyes, counting in his head again and takes a step back.

Jongin wants him to take pictures, not ogle his ass and think of all the lewd things he want to do— so he takes another step away and away and looks at anywhere but the bed.

“I’m don-”

“Hyung,” Jongin says before Chanyeol can finish his sentence, “you should do what you want.” Chanyeol would wonder what he means but there’s nothing ambiguous about the too-warm, scorching hot look Jongin regards him with, cheeks almost as aflame as Chanyeol feels.

“Are you sure?” he’s starting he’s trapped in the cruel haze of a painful yet gratifying dream.

Jongin nods, lips curled into his mouth before he repositions his knees apart and dips into an arch, facing forward.

Chanyeol’s unsteady as he walks to the edge of his bed, unsteady still as he puts a hand on Jongin’s warm flesh. Jongin lets out a breath and hides his face again.

He touches one protruding swell and Jongin’s ass fits into the cup of his palm, a little thick and definitely defined. He arches even more as Chanyeol gives a squeeze, like he’s malleable and ready to be shaped by Chanyeol.

Chanyeol starts kneading gently and watches all the shifts in Jongin, sees his spine straighten, relax, every tremble, every higher lift of hips for more. Each little action from him elicits a bodily reaction from Jongin and he’s more than riveted. He caresses the skin softly, parting each cheek further before letting the firmness bounce back together. It goes straight to his cock, throbbing and already hard enough to cream himself.

He abandons kneading for running a thumb over the twitching hole, down to the perineum and stops at the head of Jongin’s cock that hangs in solid, leaking interest between his legs.

“Hyung,” Jongin lifts his head, much hoarser than he’s sounded all night and that, too, goes straight to Chanyeol. He traces back up, Jongin hissing as he goes over the sensitive stretch of skin between his ass and cock, prodding into the reluctant entrance with his thumb. Jongin’s so tight and Chanyeol has fantasized one too many times about loosening him up this way.

“Hyung!” Chanyeol hears the gasp, his mouth pressed to Jongin’s exposed hole. Then Chanyeol’s lips part and Jongin’s hips jerk as his tongue wets his entrance. He takes hold of Jongin’s cheeks again and holds them apart so he can reach further, so he can lick his tongue harder into Jongin. He licks over and over, not even his wildest imagination preparing him for how _good_ Jongin tastes, how hard he’s getting from feeling Jongin swing wildly between clenching and trying to relax, moans weak and skin becoming slick underneath Chanyeol’s grasp.

Jongin’s stance begins to slip, his knees giving out. Chanyeol reaches under him and holds him up by the stomach. Jongin reassumes his on all fours position, legs getting further and further apart and Chanyeol has even more access now. He so badly needs to discard these shorts.

He bends down into Jongin and licks harder, prods, sucks. He’s rewarded by Jongin’s incessant gasps. He wants to get Jongin off like this, just by eating him out. With how all the moans keep breaking in Jongin’s throat, Chanyeol doesn’t think it’s an impossible feat. And it’s not entirely impossible that he comes from eating Jongin out either, not with the way he aches and throbs sharply in his loins.

His tongue breaches the tight ring of muscle and he pulls back to spit into the hole. He immediately starts prodding and licking again, Jongin half screaming his name and he’s sure he should tell him to be quieter because everyone will hear them but it’s not a priority as the loud gasps turn to incoherent moans of his name and Jongin _really_ tastes and feels _so_ good _,_ he can do this all night if Jongin will let him.

Jongin’s hips starting canting rapidly, the covers bunching closer as he pulls on them more desperately, ass pushing harder into Chanyeol’s face. Then Jongin arches acutely, whine spilling from his throat before his knees give out again and he collapses face first onto the mattress. He ruts hard into the bed several times before he goes still.

Chanyeol stares at Jongin’s spent back, knuckles still clenched in fabric, sweat gleaming over the expanse of his golden skin, hair mussed from thrashing headfirst into the bed.

“Jongin,” Chanyeol says softly, caressing the ass that’s still so inviting to him.

“Hmm?”

“Can I do something else?” he’s sure Jongin is tired and wants nothing but sleep, but he’s still so hard, he just needs a little more Jongin to throw him over the edge.

“Of course.” Jongin lifts his head at last, smiling in that way that makes Chanyeol feel weak for so many reasons.

Chanyeol grips Jongin’s hips gently to prompt him up and perhaps Jongin’s not as tired as he thought because he swiftly returns on his knees for Chanyeol. Chanyeol pulls him even closer, so he’s right at the edge of the bed and fits precisely against his groin.

He thrusts, cock between Jongin’s ass, even as he’s still clothed. Jongin pushes back against him and Chanyeol almost comes right then. He tries to keep his grunts down but it’s an incredibly tight fight and he’s so confined between his shorts and Jongin’s ass and the friction is maddening, almost but not enough.

“Your nice cock can go in my ass next time, hyung.” Jongin whispers over his shoulder, still smiling that warm smile and Chanyeol feels an overwhelming rush of blood, vision bursting in white.

Chanyeol jerks against Jongin, eyes closed and head raised to the ceiling as his climax spears through him. Then he bends over and wraps his arms around Jongin’s middle, face buried in Jongin’s back as he rides out his climax with a few more thrusts against Jongin’s warm body.

Collapsing on the bed next to Jongin, he finds the latter close, searching his face like he expects Chanyeol to kick him out. Chanyeol pulls Jongin down, draping him over himself.

“Don’t worry about your ass, Jongin. You have the nicest and my favourite one.”

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this mess a while ago and edited now (it's 1am) so i'm sorry?


End file.
